


Enough Adventure for One Day

by juliandarling



Category: The Silvered - Tanya Huff
Genre: Harm to Animals, M/M, Mild Language, Peril
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-19
Updated: 2017-08-19
Packaged: 2018-12-17 10:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11849562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/juliandarling/pseuds/juliandarling
Summary: Harry and Tomas run into trouble while on patrol.





	Enough Adventure for One Day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misura](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misura/gifts).



> Warning for peril, danger to animals (no animal death).

It was an ordinary patrol in that it was exceedingly boring. They had been plodding along forever, with nothing to discuss but the slight changes in foliage. The ambers of the oaks had given way to verdant pines, and the dusty paths transforming into to loamy trails. Tomas was ready to start counting trees if it meant a respite from the monotony.

"That leaf looks a little redder," Harry muttered, drooping. His tone had grown steadily more despondent over the passing hour. "And that one's shaped like a—"

"Yes, yes," Tomas interrupted. Harry had been complaining for what seemed like forever, and it was beginning to wear on his nerves. "It looks like a dick— you think everything looks like a—"

"I was going to say a pickle." Harry sniffed, faux primly. They both chuckled, perhaps more than the joke deserved.

Jaspyr, who had to be as bored as they were, called back, "You two, look lively. No more chattering." Tomas rolled his eyes. Contrary to popular opinion, being a member of the Hunt Pack didn't offer him much leeway. If anything, he was under even more scrutiny. And Harry, by dubious virtue of association, was also watched like a hawk.

Harry asked under his breath, "What's got his knickers in a twist?" 

Tomas fingered the hilt of his sword. It was an ugly thing, a strictly utilitarian hunk of metal with a fine edge. There was no room for prettiness in the tools of the 1st Aydori Volunteers. Although, as a senior member of the Hunt Pack, Jaspyr's pistols were definitely something to behold. "Well..." He'd been under strict orders not to tell anyone, but surely that didn't include Harry? "There's rumours... Rumours that the Imperials are trying to invade Pyrahn." 

Harry made a soft sound of distress. "Really?"

"Really." Tomas looked down at his boots; they were starting to wear in finally, and the blisters had finally given way to calluses. Just when he'd started to think this whole army thing might work out, war appeared on the horizon.

Harry huffed an exasperated sigh. "Just in time for the Season to start," he said, snapping at a deciduous branch waving its needles in his face. A pine cone bounced off, striking a trunk. Jaspyr turned to look over his shoulder, shooting them both a dark look. 

"Why do you care about the Season?" Tomas could barely keep the resentment out of his voice. 

Harry turned to him, wide-eyed. "Why, all the dancing, of course." By which he meant dancing with well-coiffed, fashionable, and rich ladies. Tomas scowled and crossed his arms across his chest. 

"Ass."

"Jerk." Harry's generous lips pulling into a rakish smile. Tomas was already trying to think of something pithy and rude to say, when he heard it, a very faint but plaintive whine.

"Jaspyr, did you hear—"

"Yep." Jaspyr's eyes narrowed on the dark edge of the woods. He sniffed the air, nose twitching. "Go." Even in skin, Jaspyr had always had a keen sense of smell.

Tomas shed his greatcoat with haste, pulling off his boots with the other hand. Harry had already handed off the reins of the pony to one of their fellow cadets and was shouldering a musket. The red flecks in his eyes glowed faintly when he looked over to watch Tomas shift. 

And then the world was all smells and streaming light, and the louder and still sad cry. A pup, nearby! Tomas wiggled a little at the thought of pups, but the feeling of urgency focussed when he heard another sad yip. It was definitely a lost pup in the middle of the woods. He barrelled toward the sound, paws covering ground leaps and bounds. 

He could hear Harry cursing after him, a constant litany of complaints under his breath. Tomas ignored it in favour of the deepening of the woods. There was always a moment when one strayed from the path, and the road was a little ways away, that the forest thickened perceptibly. The trees were more gnarled, the branches reached further. The brush solidified into a teeming mass and positively seethed with life.  

He bounded over a fallen tree, under a large bough, and through a blackberry bush. He yipped at Harry to hurry up, which only elicited cursing and comments about "Bushy-tailed hellions."  

He stopped in front of an ancient beech tree and nosed at the exposed, chipped roots. It was an old tree, a mix of smells and scratch marks. A single chop mark marred its side, as if a human had thought better of attempting to level the old behemoth. Tomas nosed a pile of leaves aside until he found what he was looking for: urine, freshly marked. It was less than an hour old; the pup was close by.

Harry stumbled into the clearing, breathing heavily. "You damned creature, did you have to go this way?" Tomas pointed his nose in the air and sniffed. The comment didn't even deserve a remark. Harry groaned and sat down on the roots where the pup had peed. Tomas didn't stop him. "What are you smiling about?" Harry demanded, and Tomas just gave him a toothy look. "Fine, don't answer, beast." He pulled out his handkerchief and wiped at his brow. 

Tomas waited just a moment until the wind shifted and he caught the sweet, milky smell of something small and not yet weaned. It was weakening, its mewls growing quieter. He trotted toward the closest edge of the glade, lined with symmetrical and neat spruces. He stopped to sniff at some tracks and ducked between the trees. He could hear Harry grumbling as he rose to follow, but then he was lost again in the smells and sounds. 

A pygmy owl fluffed its feathers and hooted softly to itself; it could hear him but wasn't worried about wolves learning to climb. A hedgehog rustled its needles nervously; it'd had a run-in with the pup, but everyone had escaped unscathed. The light was changing, the sun was setting, and the forest floor was shifting subtly as the wind began to pick up. He could still hear the shuffling of the 1st, with Jaspyr's waspish orders. And there it was, a forlorn mewl that tugged at the heartstrings. 

He nosed his way over to a spry elm, where, curled between two roots, was a little tawny pup. She made a sad long cry at the sight of him and struggled to her feet. She was a sleek creature, well-fed, but far too young to be alone. He licked her small head, inhaling deeply as he did. There was no scent of illness or injury, so she had likely not been abandoned. She nudged him and then sat back down with a thump; her adventure had taken a toll and she hadn't eaten in hours, far too long for a pup of her age. He picked her up by the scruff and trotted back toward Harry, who was still picking his way across the glade. 

"What have you found here?" He reached out and took the pup from Tomas, who sat down and watched Harry pull the waterskin from his rucksack. They weren't too far from the road, but there weren't any settlements close. And she didn't smell of human... It didn't mean she wasn't Hunt Pack, but he thought it more likely her mother was a wild wolf. Harry poured some water into his cap and watched the pup lap at it feebly. There wasn't much of a window to find her mum before the sun set completely. They could take her back to camp, where she would no doubt survive, but the chances of reuniting her with her pack would be slim. But she wouldn't survive if they waited too long looking for her den. Harry, as if reading his mind, pulled out a ration of jerky and passed it to Tomas. 

Tomas gently took it from Harry's fingers, careful not to snag soft human hands on sharp cuspids, and dutifully chewed the meat. The pup, smelling the meat, perked up a bit and began snuffling. She pressed her snout to his cheek and he spat up the jerky. She immediately scarfed it down, pausing only to make little snorting sounds, and then keep going. When she'd eaten the remainder she leaned against his foreleg, and he leaned back.

"Time to take this one home, huh?" Harry reached out and ruffled Tomas's ears. "Which way?" He picked up the pup, who protested sleepily for a moment but then settled into the crook of his arm. Tomas tried to catch the wind's scent, already tracking back the way they had come when something else caught on the breeze. 

It was a thick, heady musk that made his head spin momentarily and raised his hackles. How had he missed it? He'd had his nose too close to the ground looking for the pup and hadn't even noticed what was downwind of them. 

She was enormous, easily twice the size of one of the shaggy ponies the Hunt Pack favoured. Her rounded ears flicked as she examined them; it was clear she'd seen humans and wolves before and did not like them much. 

"What's wrong?" Harry nudged Tomas's flank with a knee, careful not to jostle the pup, who had also caught the scent and was beginning to make a low squealing growl. 

He couldn't even respond, too fixated on the bear on the other end of the clearing. If they were lucky she would ignore them and move on, but if she had a cub nearby— he didn't even want to think about it. And then he caught the second, no, third, smell— she had two cubs, and they were close. Her nostril flared twice, and Tomas's lips curled back from his teeth in a snarl. 

"Uh, Tomas?" Harry turned, clutching the pup closer. The bear reared back, pulling up onto her back legs, her enormous paws rising. Each paw was the size of Harry's head, studded with claws that could rip him from sternum to groin. Where were the damned bear cubs? There was a bone-shaking rumble emanating from her barrel-like chest. He couldn't sprint for it and leave Harry and the wolf pup alone, nor could he take on the bear without risking life and limb. He looked at Harry out of the corner of his eye. Poor Harry had pulled the pup against his chest but held his ground, waiting for Tomas's move. 

Tomas felt the energy coil in his limbs, each muscle bunching like a tightly-wound spring. The bear, noticing the ever so slight change in his posture, let out a horrendous roar, spittle flying through the air. He lowered back further into his crouch, and was ready to bound forward when he realised that Harry had pulled out his musket. His motions were smooth, assured— pup in the crook of his arm, musket in the other. It wasn't going to work: the bear had already noticed his movement and shook her head. 

And just at that moment, while she was distracted by the jingling of the musket's metal, Tomas leapt forward. She had turned just as he jumped, so he caught her in the shoulder. As he sunk his teeth into the meatiest part, he hoped desperately that Harry had taken the momentary distraction to run and save himself. 

But all thoughts of Harry were interrupted by the abrupt lurch of being thrown across the clearing as she bucked him off, his teeth pulling out of her muscle. The thick, gamy blood coated his tongue and he struck the ground so hard his teeth rattled. But he was back on his feet again in a second, rushing back at her. This time she was ready for him, paws swinging, her horrifying teeth already gnashing. Her reach was long, and she caught him as he leapt for her neck, swatting him off like a fly. As he sailed through the air he couldn't help but think about how Ryder would scold him for such an obvious gamble. 

He got back to his feet a little slower this time, and the bear had started moving across the clearing as if following Harry. Before he could even consider the best option, he was tearing after her, jumping onto her back to tear into the thick ruff of her neck. She tried to shake him off again, but he'd sunk his teeth into the thickest part of her collar and held on. She rolled her shoulders and rose on her back legs, repeating the gesture until finally his grip loosened and tore through the muscle, dropping him to the ground. 

He was rising to meet her again when another of her downward broad swipes caught him and sent him back into the dirt. She roared in his face but the sound was suddenly odd and echoing. He tried to get to up but wobbled, paws scrabbling to catch on the slick grass. She loomed over him and he realised that if he couldn't get up the full force of her teeth and claws would rain down on him. He pushed ineffectually at the ground, yelping pitifully. 

And just as she was about to fall upon him, yellow teeth grinding, there was a sharp crack. She recoiled, howled, and turned toward the sound. There was a hail of bullets from the edge of the forest, and she staggered. The majority of the volley struck the trees around her, splintering branches. The earth shook as she retreated into the thicket, a trail of blood thickening in the grasses behind her. She would likely survive to eat more unwary humans and raise enormous bear-cubs. Tomas struggled to his feet, already turning toward the 1st Aydori Volunteers. 

Harry was the first to reach him, nearly dropping the pup in his eagerness to check Tomas. Jaspyr was only a second behind him, shrugging on his greatcoat. "Tomi?" He probed at Tomas's belly, shoulders and flanks, before leaning back onto his heels. "Close call there, old chap." Somehow, he was calm as a cucumber. "None the worse for wear, eh?"

Jaspyr refrained from his usual sharp remark, assessing Tomas from a distance with a narrowed eye. "Check his head."

The fogginess was already beginning to clear, perhaps from the adrenaline, and he shook his head and shifted into skin. Jaspyr was already handing him his greatcoat. He shrugged it on and then leaned against Harry, to let his blunt fingers roamed over his skull. His hands were wonderfully warm.

"I'm fine," Tomas rasped, although his heart was still racing. "The pup?"

She snuffled at him from Harry's arm and grinned. Clearly, she'd found the whole thing exhilarating. Jaspyr, having determined that no one was badly injured, gestured to the edge of the clearing. "The den's that way. Perhaps an escort this time?"

Tomas motioned for them to start toward the den. Harry immediately sidled up, giving him his arm. He leaned into him heavily, limbs aching horribly. Nothing was torn or broken, but he was sure he'd be one giant bruise in the morning. 

"How did you know we were in trouble?" Tomas asked after they had walked a while. 

Jaspyr considered the trees, nose twitching. "Something smelt off..." He shrugged. "I just had a feeling." 

"We're glad of your _feeling_ ," Harry opined, bolstering Tomas again. "That was a rather large bear." 

In fact, it was perhaps the biggest bear any of them had ever seen. A small faction of the 1st Aydori Volunteers had accompanied Jaspyr into the forest, and they were a great deal grimmer after their volley with the creature. They all agreed that it was unnaturally large, a behemoth among bears. What had seemed to Tomas like an easy jaunt through familiar territory suddenly felt strange and alien, but perhaps that was also the foreboding thought of the nearby invasion. 

Harry, as if sensing his thoughts, elbowed him gently. Tomas looked over, catching the familiar sparkle of red in Harry's dark eyes. "Thanks, for, you know..."

"Of course, you daft creature." Harry pitched his voice low, so only Tomas could hear. "Where would you be without me?"

"Eaten by a bear."

"Mauled and thrown into a tree?"

"Chewed to bits by bear cubs."

They both chuckled a bit, although it was probably mostly from exhaustion. The pup in Harry's other arm was nodding off, her earlier snack and the rush of adrenaline finally wearing thin. 

They passed through another clearing, and as they reentered the wood the change in the forest was almost imperceptible. But, to Tomas, it was immediately apparent that they were nearing a stream: the tree trunks thickened, the topsoil was lush, and the foliage was slightly moister.

"We're close," Jaspyr announced after inspecting a blackberry shrub. "She's marked all over." 

The infantry readjusted their muskets, but Tomas desperately hoped it wouldn't be necessary. He'd had enough tussles with wildlife for one day, thank you very much. Besides, he wasn't sure how Harry would manage juggling a weak Tomas and a squirming puppy. 

The ground began to slope down toward the creek, and he caught a faint whiff of the den. The forest was unnaturally still as if everyone was holding their breath. Jaspyr raised a hand, warning them, and they all stood stock-still. 

Harry gestured with his chin toward a large rock, where a pair of black wolves perched.

The bigger of the two stood and yawned; clearly, they had already assessed the 1st to be harmless. The pup, perhaps smelling her family, awoke with a start and started wriggling in Harry's arm. He gently put her down and lowered Tomas to sit alongside her. Jaspyr motioned for the rest of the 1st to retreat, which they did with haste. While they were used to seeing the Hunt Pack, it was something different to see _wild_ wolves. 

The pup sniffed at Tomas, gave his hand a lick, and then began picking her way over to her parents, talking about her adventure in little yips and growls. Once she was close enough, the smaller of the black wolves loped over and picked her up by the scruff of her neck, and she relaxed into the comforting grip by going slack. The wolves started back toward the den, giving Jaspyr and Tomas warning looks, as if to say "Leave off, you've done what you came for."

The forest seemed to sigh in relief, and the sounds of birds and other creatures swelled in volume. Tomas wanted nothing more than to stay where he was, but Harry was already looping an arm under his and hauling him to his feet. 

"Enough adventure for one day." Harry ruffled Tomas's head. "Let's get you back to camp." 

Tomas made a muffled groan and let himself be steered back toward the road. Jaspyr cast one last look over the gently sloping hill and followed them back, one hand on his pistol. 

\---

They arrived back at camp worse for wear, even the infantry was foot-sore and sulky. Lord Stovin, ever the one for a blustery tirade, had much to say about a simple foot-patrol getting distracted from their _sworn duty_! But Jaspyr, who was heading back to Bercarit to join Ryder's retinue, only offered a murmur of an apology. 

"What's the old man fussing about?" Harry asked as Tomas emerged from the command pavilion, already reaching to help Tomas across camp to the medic. It was a sign of how tired he was that he accepted the offer without whining. 

Tomas looked around briefly, but no one had accompanied them. "I think he's just nervous. With, you know..." They both made grim eye contact and lapsed into silence. The implications of the invasion were enormous, more than Tomas could wrap his mind around. If Pyrahn was invaded, that would mean the duchy of Traiton was probably next ... and then what? The duchy of Pyrahn had always been known for its excellent infantry; if they had been invaded it would be dire for them all. 

"Well, let's get you to the medic." Harry grinned. "I didn't think you could get uglier, but that bruise—"

"Oi!" Tomas tried to shove him, but managed to only paw at him ineffectually. Taking pity, although he definitely laughed a fair bit, Harry led him over to the medic's tent. The medic pronounced him well enough but gave him a mild draught for the bruising pain. 

Harry dumped him in his cot and helped him remove his boots. He could already feel the stiffening of his joints from the bone-deep bruises, and he groaned as Harry tried to wrestle his greatcoat off. "Just leave it on."

Harry snorted. "And have you whining about the smell in the morning? I think not. Besides, you'll be even stiffer then, and it'll be hard to get you out of it." 

Although he couldn't imagine being even sorer, he allowed that it was likely to be worse. He manoeuvred himself to the edge of the cot and let Harry finally pull the heavy wool coat off. He tossed it on top of Tomas's trunk and propped Tomas up in the cot with blankets and pillows. "Stay here."

"Hah, funny," Tomas growled.

Harry returned with two bowls of stew and some steaming coffee. He made Tomas choke down half a bowl before giving him the pain draught. "The doc said it'd make you sleepy."

"I'm not sleepy!" Tomas said, and couldn't even repress the enormous yawn that followed. Harry rolled his eyes.  

"Dog breath. Go to sleep." He helped Tomas settle down into the narrow cot, drawing up a blanket over him. He barely had time to eke out a murmur of thanks before he was sinking into cottony dreams. 

He woke a few hours later to find Harry leaned up against the edge of the cot, reading a book. It was dark out, and he'd lit a beeswax candle that illuminated the entirety of the small tent. He craned his head to get a look at the cover. 

" _Mind and Matter_?" His voice was raspy from sleep and probably a bit of an injury to his throat. The bear had managed to get in a good blow to his neck. "That psychobabble will rot your brain." 

Harry chuckled, snapping the book shut. "Just thinking about those wolves. They're not quite like you, but it was kind of uncanny. The big one cocked her head to the side and I swear she looked just like you."

"She might have been bigger than me," Tomas admitted. "But it is weird, that we're so similar and so different. They didn't even seem that fussed by us." They both lapsed into silence.

Harry was playing with the edge of the blanket, looping the wool tassels around one of his fingers. "I was scared," he spit out finally, after he'd tangled his hand deep into the wool. "You looked pretty beat up for a moment there." 

Tomas winced. "It wasn't fun." 

A strange look passed across Harry's face. "I didn't like seeing you get hurt. And there wasn't much I could do."

It wasn't often that their differences came between them, and Tomas had never really thought about what it would be like to be not-Hunt Pack. He'd never had to sit aside and watch his friends get hurt, and be unable to do anything. 

"You helped," he reminded Harry, reaching out to gently pry the blanket from Harry's hand. His hands were warm, despite the nip of the evening air. He hated the look on Harry's face, an unfamiliar combination of shame and hurt. "Come here." 

He tugged Harry into the narrow cot, so they were almost flush against each other. Each point of contact seemed to pulse, and he could feel the rustle of Harry's breeches and shirt. The draught was still dulling the edge of the pain, but it left a slight delay to each sensation. He hated the way it muffled the feeling of Harry pressed against him.  

Harry tucked his head in, into the crook of Tomas's neck. Tomas squirmed a little, Harry's hot breath against his neck stirring something in him. They'd never done this before, and he'd never really thought of it. Or perhaps he'd not let himself think about it. He hesitantly reached up to put his hand on the slight curve of Harry's hip. Harry scooted even closer and sighed gustily into Tomas's shoulder. 

"I can hear you thinking," Harry groused. "It's loud." 

Tomas huffed a laugh and let himself tug Harry as close as he could, until they were cleaved to one another. His groin throbbed deliciously, and he groaned a little at the pressure. 

Harry stilled for a second, and it seemed they were both holding their breaths. Harry looked up at him, and when their eyes caught, Tomas let out a long exhale. It was Harry who finally drew him down into a kiss, at first just a press of warm lips. He thought, in the strange far-off way one can when in an embrace, that it was odd they had never done this before. "Stop thinking," Harry muttered again, pulling back for a second. His full mouth was already flushing. 

Tomas blushed and ducked his head back down to kiss Harry again, licking into his mouth tentatively. Harry opened up, deepening it immediately, hands roaming over Tomas's sore back. They pulled back, both panting. 

Harry's eyes sparkled with Fire-mage red, and for a second Tomas thought he'd say "Just kidding!" but instead, the candle guttered out, throwing the tent into darkness, and Harry's hands were back on him, gently smoothing down his back. 

He sighed, allowing himself to sink into the cot and into the warmth of Harry's body. 

"Go to sleep," Harry said, voice a little rough. "There's time for this in the morning." He tucked his nose back into Tomas's shoulder and Tomas let the warm, cottony feel roll over him again. But this time it wasn't the muzzy feeling of the drugs, but rather something from his chest that swelled and rolled and suffused his limbs. He buried his face in Harry's musty hair, ignored the twinges in his neck and back, and sank into a deep, blissful sleep. There was time in the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> This is a little bit of a fix-it fit, in that I've always wished we could have seen more of Harry in _The Silvered_. I played a little fast and loose with their timeline as they always seemed very young to me in the novel. I was glad to give them a sweet ending. Thanks so much to [la_dissonance](https://archiveofourown.org/users/la_dissonance) for their lovely and thoughtful edits.


End file.
